No Illusions
by hiddlestown
Summary: There's a mystery surrounding Abyssa Serpentine. Who is Luna, and why is she so afraid of her? Barty/OC. Better than it sounds.
1. prologue

**This is the same story as The Fox and the Crow, only from Moggy's point of view. Read that one too, if ya like. It's a Remus/OC story, because we all know that's the most important part about a story. The pairing. *rolls eyes* Anyway, here's the link. .net/s/7091453/1/**

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><p><em>Love can sometimes be magic; but sometimes magic can be just an illusion. <em>

Moggy hadn't really been thinking much about it at the time, but fate had a funny way of occurring when you were least expecting it. And Moggy had certainly _not_ expected it.

Many a time had Moggy speculated the possible existence of love at first sight. However, she never really thought it would ever happen to her. After all, what were the chances of simply seeing someone and just _knowing_ that you were meant to be? It was all too far fetched for her taste; but even she couldn't deny that the second she saw him, standing unprotected in the pouring rain, something just _clicked_. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was something big.

At the time, she hadn't had very much time to mull over the thought. The rain was coming down hard and the noise it made against her umbrella was deafening. She looked left and right before shoving her hand in the pocket of her overcoat and jogging through the rain towards the boy. He lifted a hand to his eyes, squinted against the onslaught, as he caught sight of her.

She opened her mouth, but words wouldn't come out. She frowned and shook her umbrella, jerking her head to the left, as if to say 'come here'. He looked to both sides warily before he stepped underneath the umbrella with her. Underneath the red sheen of the umbrella, his dark eyes appeared crimson.

For some reason, Moggy still couldn't seem to speak. Judging by the way he opened and closed his mouth, neither could he. Moggy's eyebrows knitted. So did his. They stared at each other for what could have been minutes, but was only seconds. Finally, Moggy was able to move. She jerked her head towards the train. He nodded and they set off for the Hogwarts Express.

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><p><strong>For those who haven't read F&amp;C, Moggy's real name is Abyssa Serpentine. She's the sister of Pheonix Serpentine of the Falmouth Falcons (Quidditch team). She's got pin-curled orange hair and a delicate figure, with milky white freckled skin and pale blue eyes. She's really unique looking, and I guess you would sort of describe her as looking like a fox. She's very... angular, I guess. Anyway, for personality, she's loud and sarcastic but usually pretty neutral and good at sorting things out. She can be kind of mentally unstable at times. Oh, and I'm pretending that Hogwarts has a school newspaper and she's a reporter, so she's kinda nosy, I guess, and she's always taking pictures of people. xD<strong>


	2. minor annoyances

**I was listening to About a Girl by The Academy Is for some reason when I read this... dunno why. But William Beckett is so cute! Like, in a 'omfgIwannahugyoutodeath' way. xD Anyway, here you go. Sorry if it's sort of sketchy near the end.**

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><p>Moggy flipped her orange hair back over her shoulder haughtily. She was late for class- again- and it was all Barty's fault. They had both gone down to the lake during herbology, and Barty had forgotten to check his watch. <em>Honestly, for a genius, he can be so thick<em>, she thought airily.

"Late again, Miss Serpentine," Professor Tunderwoulfe tutted, shaking his finger at her. "Tell me, is Mister Crouch late for his class as well?" She huffed as the entire class burst out in a flurry of giggles. Tunderwoulfe seemed satisfied and waved her away. "Go sit down and begin your test."

To Moggy, the test was a waste of time. DADA was one of her favorite subjects, and she was in no part bad at it. She was finished with the test with still thirty minutes left to the bell, during which she decided to pull out her book and read. She rummaged around in her knapsack for a moment before pulling out a pair of black eyeglasses, shoving them onto her nose and diving into another book.

"Hey. Hey. You," Moggy looked up, her glasses slipping to the edge of her nose as she looked around. "Over here." She turned her head to the right and promptly rolled her eyes- it was Sirius Black. "Yeah, you." He grinned. "You finish it, too?" he asked her. He was leaning back in his chair casually, legs propped up on his desk. She nodded, hoping that her silence would dissuade him from talking. "Easiest thing in the world." He clicked his tongue and turned back to his violent doodles of someone called, from what Moggy could discern, 'Snivels'. Clearly a nickname for someone he didn't like.

Moggy sighed and rolled her eyes once more before turning back to her book. _Jerk_, she thought spitefully. She winced as something hit her in the head- it was a crumpled up piece of paper. She glowered arrogantly down at it. It was the parchment that Black had been drawing on. She shot him a withering look and he shook his head. "Look at it!" he mouthed, that stupid smile still plastered across his face. Moggy grimaced, but picked up the paper and smoothed it on her desk regardless.

let's get out of here. whadaya say?

"Black, you ass." Mogggy re-crumpled it and chucked it at his head. He blocked it at the last minute with his arm, and then shot her a dazzling grin.

"Hit me again, love." Mentally gagging, Moggy steadfastly ignored him as she returned to her abandoned book. Black made this as difficult as possible for her. The rest of the lesson was spent avoiding papers thrown by him and magical red-lipped kisses he sent through the air.

Xx xx xX

Moggy was the first to leave the classroom after the bell. Tunderwoulfe had marked her test and told her she had received a straight-up O, just as she had expected. Unfortunately, he had also informed her that Black had achieved an 'outstanding' as well. With this thought in mind, she stalked dangerously down the hall.

"Hey, love! Wait for me!" The sound of Black's voice caused her to quicken her pace. With any luck, she would make it to the girls' toilet before Black had a chance to intercept her.

Apparently, luck had it out for her. Black's hand closed around her arm when she was but five feet away from the loo. She closed her eyes and huffed sharply, spinning around on her heel to face him. "What," she demanded brusquely, "do you want?"

Black fixed her with a look of mock hurt. "Your words are like a razor slicing my heart in two," he proclaimed melodramatically. Moggy snorted, not caring if it was unladylike.

"I hope you keep bleeding," she stated as she tried to pull herself away from him. She had things to do and people to see during lunch, and he wasn't one of them.

"Love, I get the feeling you don't like me," he smirked.

"Well-well-well, you do have a brain!" she retorted. He ignored her.

"Hmm. This is certainly new," he mused. "I don't think I've ever met a girl who didn't like me." Moggy snorted again. "This must be rectified," he declared, staring solemnly down at her. "Tell me, Abby, why don't you like me?" he demanded. He almost seemed serious.

If he had been expecting her to give him no real answer, he was sorely mistaken. She had spent thirty minutes of her life in that DADA classroom being assaulted by Black, and she was, quite frankly, annoyed. "You're an egotistical tosser who treats girls like they're blow-up fuck toys in some epic game of 'catch the bird," she rebuffed irately. "Not to mention that you spent the last forty-five-_fucking_-minutes throwing papers and lips at my bloody head, which says something about your intelligence level…" she added under her breath. "All in all, you're an ass."

Black stared at her for a minute, but recovered quickly. "Ah, but all girls like asses," he winked.

"No, no, in fact, they don't-"

"Even if they say otherwise," he finished.

Moggy glowered at him for a few moments, trying to calculate her next move. She was saved a decision when she heard her name being called by a voice. Her neck snapped around and her eyes softened when she caught sight of an o-so-familiar head of sandy hair.

"Barty! Cor!" She huffed and violently tore her arm away from Black, stomping over to the now mildly frightened-looking boy. She attached herself to him, grabbing his arm with both hands and pulling him halfway in front of her. "See, Black?" she snapped. "Not all girls like douchebags." Barty scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

Black wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth, but he was distracted by James calling him over. Moggy breathed a sigh of relief in Barty's ear as the Gryffindor walked away, muttering under his breath.

As soon as he had disappeared down the corridor, she unhinged herself from Barty, who was practically radiating heat. He turned and looked at her, looking flushed and confused. Moggy adopted her own confused look- she didn't understand why he was blushing. She ignored that thought for now. "He was pissing me off," was her explanation to him.

He nodded slowly. "Ri-i-i-i-ght." He paused, crossing his arms before continuing. "I just wanted to ask if you're going home for term." His words were strangely forced.

Moggy could only stare at him. "Are you _brained_?" she demanded incredulously. He blinked, apparently surprised by her reaction. "Am I going home? For term? For _term_? Going… _home_? What brand of acid have you been smoking?" she snapped, horrified at his blatant thickness.

Barty held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you're not going home, I get it," he mumbled.

A scary thought came to mind. Moggy narrowed her eyes at him. "… _you're_ not going home for term… _are you?_" The way he glanced away from her and licked his lips answered the question for him. "Cor! You are, aren't you? You're going to leave me all alone here?" She gestured wildly while she spoke. People passing stared.

Barty grinned apologetically. "Uh, sorry, but… I mean, something about wanting to have a family dinner together… my mom…" He looked endearingly up at her.

Moggy glowered at him before throwing her arms up in the air and stalking off down the hall. Barty trailed after her like a kicked puppy. "Er. Xeno's staying here, so you won't be completely alone," he pointed out. The only reaction he drew out of her was an even more mortified expression. Barty was quiet for the rest of lunch.

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><p><strong>If anyone missed it, Xeno is Xenophillius (sp?) Lovegood. He turns up later. <strong>


	3. camera girl

**Again, the ending's a bit sketchy, but at least you get to meet Cade. She's... she's kind of the oldest character I have. I use her a LOT. Forgive slight Mary-Sue-ness at the moment, she gets better.  
><strong>

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><p>Barty yawned and stretched lazily in the grass as he watched Regulus practice. The day was uncharacteristically warm and sunny for December in the Scottish Highlands, and many of the students had chosen to take advantage of the weather and head outside. Barty and Regulus were no exceptions.<p>

"Reckon you'll be seeker again this year?" he called up to his friend, grinning.

Regulus ducked down, skimming the grass with the end of his broom. His black hair was as sleek and as untouched as it had been when he had taken off, completely unaffected by the wind. He grinned back. "I'm fantastic. Why wouldn't they?"

Barty snorted. "I can think of some reasons," he remarked sardonically.

Regulus dismounted with a flourish. "Shut up," he growled jokingly, knocking Barty flat on his back with the handle of his broom and pinning him there. "Ha."

Barty snickered. He twisted the handle out of Regulus's hand and used it to pull him down to the ground. In a second, he was pinning the Slytherin to the ground with his elbows. This victory was short-lived, though- soon Regulus had rolled over and switched their positions.

Barty was about to push Regulus off and run when a voice called from afar, "Careful, boys. Someone might think you're more than friends." Both he and Regulus looked up at the girl who was approaching them. Barty's mouth hung open slightly.

Hastily, she shook her straight black bangs out of her eyes; round and mismatched, one was green while the other was pale amber. Her figure was strong and curvy, and her uniform was blatantly tight across her chest; and Barty was sure that Dumbledore didn't allow those many buttons to be unbuttoned. As she walked towards them, she pulled something black out of her bag and suddenly there was a flash of light. Barty yelped and rolled away from Regulus.

"What was that for?" he demanded reproachfully, squinting up at her. As he blinked, he made out what the object in her hand was. "Is that a camera?"

The girl smirked. "Cade Riddle, school newspaper," she introduced herself, extending a hand to help Barty onto his feet.

Barty was finding it hard to stop staring at her. He could practically feel Regulus's disapproving frown burning into his back. "Sorry, did you just say Riddle?" Regulus inquired loudly, his voice breaking on her name.

Barty was stumbling over himself as he tried to lean on Regulus's broomstick and shake Cade's hand at the same time. She only laughed, ignoring Regulus entirely. "Err, sorry," he mumbled, stabbing the broom into the half-frozen ground and steadying himself hurriedly.

Regulus was frowning. "Hey, camera girl!" he said in an attempt to grab her attention. Cade rolled her eyes and glanced at him. "Do I know you?" he asked suspiciously.

She sighed airily, as if Regulus was beneath her. "As much as I know you, Regulus Black," she informed him, batting her eyelashes. "Don't you recognize the cousin of your best friend?"

Barty, who had been busy trying to pull the end of the broom out of the ground, froze. She obviously had not been talking about him, so that left Moggy. He stared at Cade, not quite believing what she had just said. "Wait- you're- Moggy has a- family-?" _And Gryffindor family, too, _he thought as he caught sight of her red and gold tie.

Regulus was in as much of a state of shock that Barty was. However, he was much better at hiding it. "Oh," he managed to say. "Well. She's, er, not here right now. I think she's in the. Kitchens. Yeah."

Cade raised her eyebrows at him, an impish smirk gracing her lips. "I'd say so," she drawled. "But I'm not actually here for her." She pushed her short hair behind her ears. "I'm here to give you this." She rummaged through her bag for a minute, letting her camera hang around her neck. Finally, with a small triumphant 'ah ha!' she pulled two letters out and brandished them in front of her. She handed them to the boys. "Moggy and I are having a... _thing_, see, and seeing as you two are her friends, you're coming." Barty noticed that Cade also didn't use indefinite phrases like "I thought" or "I'd hoped", just like Moggy.

He turned his attention to the envelope in his hand. It appeared to be a kind of invitation, and was sealed with a green wax stamp bearing what appeared to be a kind of family crest. Barty ran his thumb over it curiously. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Cade about this 'thing', but when he looked up, she was gone.

"So wha- hey, where did she go?" Regulus looked just as confused as Barty felt. The two looked at each other for a moment.

"We should probably get our stuff," Barty said, breaking the silence, "and go up to the castle. It's nearly dark." Regulus nodded. Barty tossed his broom back at him and bent down to pick up his books. He was careful to slip the envelope into his back pocket to avoid losing it.

As they walked back up to the castle, Regulus began talking about the strange incident. "So, what do you reckon this 'thing' is?" he inquired. His invitation was stuck between the pages of his Transfiguration textbook.

Barty shrugged. "No idea," he admitted. "But if it's Moggy's family…" he trailed off. Neither of them needed to finish that sentence. They both knew that Moggy's family was something she never, ever spoke about. The most anyone really knew about her was that she was from Russia.

"Maybe her family's… normal," Regulus suggested.

Barty grinned. "I don't think she even knows what normal means," he informed him, laughing. "I doubt if anyone in her family does."

"Ha, you're probably right." Regulus was quiet for a second before a thought occurred to him. "Didn't she say she wasn't going home for term?"

Barty hadn't considered this. "Hmm. I guess maybe her parents changed their mind?"

The rest of the walk up to the castle was spent in useless conjecture about Moggy's family and who they were. Most of their theories were wrong, but they did manage to isolate some solid facts about them: They were rich, Moggy didn't like them, and they were important.


	4. invitations

_Dear Crouch/Black Family,_

_You have been cordially invited to the 421st annual Serpentine Family Reunion. This means you are either a Serpentine or a friend of one. As this is a formal event, our family accepts only the highest-standing of friends, and you are to be congratulated by being allowed to attend._

_The Reunion shall be held at the Serpentine Family Home in Nine Wands, England, at precisely 7.00 on the date of December 21. We would be pleased if you were to attend._

_Signed,_  
><em>Jewel Riddle Serpentine<em>

Regulus whistled appreciatively. "Four hundred and twenty _first_. That's almost older than Quidditch," he stated. "Not even my family goes back that far." He paused. "Then again, I suppose it makes sense. You'd have to have years of selective breeding to get someone like her."

A log snapped in half, cracking violently, in the fire. Barty hummed. He was concentrating on the game of wizarding chess in front of him, and wasn't really paying attention to what Regulus was saying. "Knight to E6." The glass knight obeyed him, taking off Regulus's bishop's head in the process.

Regulus was too entranced by the letter to notice that he was losing. "I wonder if Moggy knows about this?" he mused. "I doubt it, though. It was probably Cade." His voice dropped to a conspiring whisper. "I've heard she loves to mess around with other people's lives," he said.

"Is that so?" Barty mumbled. It was now clear that he wasn't paying attention. "It's your move."

Regulus looked down at the board and sighed. "Are you even listening to me?" he asked in a frustrated tone.

Barty had the grace to at least shake his head. "If you don't move, I'm going to skip you," he informed the Slytherin.

Regulus rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "It doesn't matter. I've lost anyway," he sighed, pointing his wand at the mutilated set. Slowly, they began to piece themselves back together and, looking defeated, slink back towards their case. Barty's pieces clicked in triumph and marched off of the board.

Barty hummed again. "What you do reckon is for dinner? I wonder if they've got that thing that looked like a slipper." He leaned back in his armchair, crossing his legs and gazing up at the domed cieling. "It was wicked good."

Regulus rolled his eyes, fed up. "It's called _bichon au citron_, Barty, and no, they only had that last week because of le Jour de la Sainte Barbe. Yes, it was good," he snapped. "But that's beside the point. Aren't you at least a little bit interested in this reunion?" he demanded, shoving his set back into his bag.

Barty was quiet for a minute. Regulus was on the verge of saying something to remind him of his presence, but before he could, Barty shifted in his seat. "I am interested," he said slowly, still not making eye contact, "but… I don't want to… intrude… if she doesn't want us… knowing… about her family."

Regulus threw his arms up in the air. "Honestly! You're impossible. Your father must have really drilled those morals into your head when you were little." He must have noticed how Barty's eyes grew dark at the mention of his father, so he changed the subject. "I think we should ask Moggy about this."

Barty's head snapped up and for the first time that night, he looked at Reg. "No way!" he exclaimed. "She'll kill us if she knew Cade invited us to the reunion!"

Regulus tilted his head to the side. "But how would she feel if we just turned up- and you know your parents are going to make you go- without warning her that we were going to be there?" he inquired, challenge in his voice.

Barty paused and then sighed, sinking back into his chair. As usual, Reg's logic was infallible. "Well, I suppose…" he mumbled. "But she'll still kill us."

"Who's going to kill you?"


	5. anger

**I tried to describe Moggy in a bit more detail in this chapter... mostly just the way she looked.**

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><p>It wasn't often that Moggy looked angry. Maybe it was her personality, or maybe it was the unique curve of her jaw, but more often than not, she simply looked elegant and emotionless. Barty knew better, though- he could tell exactly how she felt at any given moment just by looking at her lips. When she was sad, her mouth would be stiff, just slightly pursed. If she was confused, she would bite her bottom lip or run her tongue over her teeth. When she was lying, she would bite her tongue to keep her from laughing. However, when she was angry, she would smile a plastic smile, looking to anyone else like she was happy when, inside, she was furious.<p>

This was one of those times.

"Hello? Anyone home?" she smiled, waving a hand in front of her ruffled white shirt. "I asked who you think is going to kill you," she repeated, her voice light and jovial. Barty swallowed hard.

All he could manage to choke out was a slight, "Uhhh, well-" before Regulus intervened. He knew that Barty wouldn't be able to say anything.

"You," Regulus said bravely. When Moggy turned her smiling face on him, he instantly began to look nervous. "I mean, not that we've, done, anything, per say… we've just… we're… well-" He squeaked when Moggy suddenly moved. She paused, glancing at him worriedly, and then laughed.

"I won't hurt you." She was lying. "I'm just going to sit down," she informed him sarcastically. She walked silently over to Barty's chair before perching on the arm. "See?" Her voice was lower now, and way too close to his ear. He hardly dared to turn and look at her, and when he did, all he saw was her perfect, glittering teeth and her full pink lips, twisted into a cheerful smile. He jerked his head back around before he could see any more, as if afraid she was going to bite him.

"Now why don't you boys just spit it out." She sounded absolutely harmless, but they both knew better. They had been on her bad side more than once, and they weren't eager to repeat it. When neither of them spoke, Moggy's smile grew wider. "Alright, then. You don't have to say anything." She shrugged almost indiscernibly. "I already know," she informed them. Her hair brushed Barty's neck when she flipped it over her shoulder. "Cade told me that you had been invited to the Reunion many weeks ago," she elaborated, crossing her legs.

There was perfect silence, during which Regulus only stared at Moggy and Barty only stared at the floor as if it was some fascinating puzzle. Then, Regulus burst out in laughter. "Oh, Merlin, I thought you were going to kill us!" he breathed, relieved.

Moggy's neck snapped around and she glared at him. "I never said I wasn't." Regulus shut up instantly.

Barty wished he could just melt into the scenery. He closed his eyes and willed Moggy to forget that he was there. Maybe, he thought, if he could concentrate hard enough, he would turn into one of the bookshelves that lined the Ravenclaw common room. Maybe then Moggy wouldn't notice him. He wasn't that lucky.

"So, you two get to meet my family," she stated, leaning closer to Barty. "This should be fun." He imagined her eyes glittering red and her teeth sharpening to fangs. "Tell me. Would you have me tell you about them now, or would you like it to be a surprise?" No one answered her. "Well? Answer me."

Barty was too nervous to say anything. Regulus seemed to notice this, so he cleared his throat. "Uh… you… you could… tell us about them now, if you wanted to, I mean. Er." He turned red, knowing that he sounded like an idiot. "It's… it's really your decision."

Moggy was silent for a minute. Her smile vanished and was replaced by a delicate frown. She tilted her head to the side before speaking. "Hmmm. I hate it when people don't have the spine to make decisions for themselves. If I _ask_ you if you'd like to do something, you _answer _me. Definitively," she added.

Regulus could only manage a short 'uhhh' before he shut his mouth. Before he knew what he was doing, Barty straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat as Reg had before. "We'd like to know now, thanks," he stated decisively, turning to look at Moggy. His throat closed up again, and whatever spark of bravery had ignited in him vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He slumped back down. "Er, I mean… if it's oka-"

"You almost had me believing that you actually _are_ a man," she interjected, patting his arm in a mock show of sympathy. "Just stop right there, _rebunok_." He recognized the Russian word for 'child' and felt a slight twinge of annoyance. She could be incredibly patronizing sometimes.

There was another pause before Moggy stood up. "I'm going down to dinner," she informed them. Regulus snapped out of his state of shock.

"Wait, Moggy, you're not going to tell us?" he asked, jumping up from his chair.

Moggy didn't even stop walking towards the door. "No, I'm not," was her only answer before she disappeared from the common room.


	6. the atori horn

**Okay, so I'm sick of third POV. I've decided I'm much better at first POV. So from now on, this story will be told from either Moggy's or Barty's POV. They're pretty much all going to be Moggy, unless I say otherwise.  
><strong>

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><p>I wasn't actually going to go to dinner that night. I wasn't hungry, and I wasn't in the mood to be around that many people, anyway. So when I stepped out of the Ravenclaw common room, instead of following a pack of hungry students, I headed for the Entrance Hall. Hopefully, the caretaker, Pringle, wouldn't have closed the doors yet and I would still be able to get outside.<p>

As it turned out, I wasn't in luck. Pringle glowered at me as he locked the tall doors. "Going somewhere, girl?" he grunted.

I sighed and turned around. I wasn't sure where I was going to go now, but I knew that I just wanted to be alone that night. I wasn't feeling particularly depressed, I just wasn't in the mood to hold a conversation. My chat with Barty and Regulus had left me drained. All I wanted to do was mull over my life and sleep somewhere other than my dorm.

Luck really had it out for me that night, because I never got to go through with my plans. I was about halfway to the dungeons when a boy two years above me intercepted me. I didn't recognize him at first glance, but upon further study, I realized that he was Trent Tuleva, the best friend of my cousin-dearest, Cade. I could see instantly why she liked him so much- his dark brown hair was almost artistically ruffled and he was covered with freckles. He was exactly her type. "You're Abyssa Serpentine?" he asked breathily. I plastically returned the smile and nodded. "Oh, good, I've been looking for you everywhere. I've a message from Dumbledore. He says he'd like you in his office as soon as possible."

I resisted the urge to sigh. What did Dumbledore want? I thanked Tuleva and was about to walk away when he cleared his throat. Rolling my eyes, I turned around. "Yes?"

Tuleva fixed me with a strange look. "I've, er, been directed to escort you there," he informed me. I recognized the look- it was the look that said 'who is she that she'd need an escort to Dumbledore's office?'

"If he's worried that I'm not going to go, he's-" I paused. "He's probably right," I admitted with a sigh. "Alright, escort me, then." I figured I might as well get this over with.

Xx xx xX

Tuleva left me after he gave the statue the password ("Fizzing Whizbee"), so I had to walk up to Dumbledore's office alone. The air in the elevator was stuffy and hard to breathe, and I was almost glad when I reached the door. I knocked hurriedly, feeling a bout of claustrophobia begin to come on. "Enter," said the voice from inside. I practically fell into the room, disturbing a large chartreuse animal horn of some kind and causing it to erupt in some unknown song. I stumbled back from it.

"Please, Abyssa, disregard the Atori horn." I stared at Dumbledore. He had an Atori horn? "Have a seat." I didn't miss how Dumbledore's twinkling eyes never left me as I backed away from the horn and then slowly slunk over to his desk, flopping down on one of the chairs there.

"I really didn't require an escort," I mumbled. I hated how I could never speak to Dumbledore in the tone I used with everyone else.

"You forget that I know you, Abyssa." I hated when he said my name, like he was my father, or something. "Tell me, Abyssa, have you been dreaming?"

So that was why he had called me up here. I fought hard to keep myself from being rude as I spoke. "I haven't killed anyone yet, have I?"

Professor Dumbledore gazed at me over the top of his half-rim spectacles. "Yes, and I don't believe you ever will," he smiled. _Great, means a lot to me,_ I thought cynically. "You do remember the spell I taught you when you were nine?" My heart stumbled for a minute. This was the _real_ reason he wanted to talk to me. I nodded. "Show me."

I almost rolled my eyes, but restrained myself. Instead, I took my wand out of my pocket and placed the tip over the left side of my chest. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the incantation. I felt the familiar warm glow grow from my wand touching my chest. Feeling that this was enough, I snapped out of it. "Is that sufficient, Professor?" I asked, just a touch of sarcasm in my voice.

If he noticed, he ignored it. "Yes, that will be all." I huffed and made to get up, thinking how useless this encounter had been. "Miss Serpentine," he interrupted me. He was looking at me sternly, and I felt slightly nervous. I knew that look. He only gave me that look if he was going to mention _her_.

As it turned out, I was right. "I hope you understand," he began, "that it is of utmost importance that I am updated on every episode you experience and everything having to do with your sister." His eyes flickered in the dim candlelight.

_Sister_. I felt the familiar whispering tug on the edge of my mind that I got every time someone said that word. I swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." I glowered down at the floor. "May I leave now, sir?"

Dumbledore dismissed me, and I left as quickly as I could. I only spared a glance for the Atori horn before I left as I realized that it had never stopped singing.

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><p><strong>Okay, so the Atori horn is actually very important, just so you know. <strong>


	7. the little girl

One evening when Rapunzel was twelve years old, Helga used her powers to call the great Raven of the North. She told him to carry Rapunzel away to a high tower in a forest. The Raven did as he was told, and Helga was waiting when they arrived. She imprisoned Rapunzel in the tower, which had no doors or stairs and only one chamber at the top. _~Treasury of Fairy Tales, Publications International, Ltd._

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><p><em>The tower was her prison. It held the smallest room in the house, so small that the walls seemed to always be falling in on you. A moth-eaten carpet covered a small portion of the floor in front of the single fireplace, and the only furnishings were the wire-framed bed in the corner and the small dresser at its foot. A barred window sparsely decorated with black drawback curtains sat directly across from the locked trapdoor that served as the only way out of the tower.<em>

_The window held the only sign that the room was occupied. Someone had moved the sheets from the bed to the window seat, as well as the battered white pillow. On this night, someone had opened the window slightly, just enough to catch the cool spring breeze that blew through these parts. This someone was a little girl, naught yet twelve, who sat cross-legged in front of the fire with a dog-eared book, engrossed in its pages. Gold lettering spelled out a name across the cover: Rapunzel. _

_A log burst in the fireplace, showering her with bits of ash that lost their heat before they touched her. She hardly noticed. Her snow-white hands were poised upon the edge of the page, ready to turn it when she was finished reading. Her eyes, the colour of uncut sapphire, darted eagerly back and forth across the page, drinking in every last drop of the story. She was about to turn the page and continue reading when she saw the bird._

_The bird was a small thing, pitifully thin. Its feathers were dull and colourless and its eyes were as black as night. It swayed back and forth on its feet before falling over, dotting the stone floor with its blood. The little girl watched it with curious eyes. She surmised that it must have flown in through the half-open window and crashed into the wall. She scolded the stupidity of the small animal as she crawled on her hands and knees over to it._

_The bird opened its mutilated beak and a half-whistle erupted from its breast. It was as if it were pleading for the girl to help it; but she never once moved. She settled down on her knees, watching it with cold eyes as the life left it. The bird jerked and fluttered its wings before its eyes closed and the living thing in front of her became dead._

_She never stopped staring at it as it died. She was about to pick it up and throw it into the fire when she heard something: The sound of eagerly approaching footsteps, and a high-pitched voice calling to her. "Sistrah! Sistrah! Posmotritse, shto ya nashol!" _Look what I found!_ The girl glanced between the trapdoor and the bird. She nudged the bird closer to the trapdoor and then backed away. _

_The trapdoor flew open, slapping against the wall and nearly slamming its opener in the head. A little boy with a basket in his arms flailed wildly as he steadied himself, and then, without bothering to look where he was putting his feet, he raced towards his sister._

_The childish beam upon his face vanished instantly as he felt something beneath his feet. He stumbled and dropped the basket as he fell to the floor. Tears came to his eyes. The girl padded over to him, her woolen socks not making a single noise against the stone floor. She squatted down next to him, grabbing him by the arm and lifting him to his feet. His bottom lip trembled as he looked down at the floor and saw what he had tripped on._

_"__Te ubil yegoa."_ You killed it._ It was a lie, but the boy was too young to understand that he couldn't have done the damage that was inflicted upon the creature. The girl let go of his arm. He set the basket down next to his feet, tears dribbling down his shirt as he stared at the bird, unable to think of anything to do. "Mama and Papa will be so angry."_

_The boy seemed to grasp that the bird was dead, and upon realizing this, he burst into tears. "__Nyet__, I did not mean to kill it!" he wailed, clinging to her arm. She shoved him away from her, eyes as cold as they had been at the sight of the bird. "_Praste menya pozhalosta!" Forgive me,_ he cried._

_"It does not matter whether you meant to kill it or not," said the girl sharply. "You killed it. It is your responsibility." A smirk wormed its way onto her lips. "You must destroy it, or you will be punished. Did no one tell you that killing is a _grehh?" Grehh._ The Russian word for sin._

_The boy sniffled loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve. When he did nothing but stare down at the bird through hazy eyes, the girl grabbed his arm roughly. He cried out in pain. "_Sistrah_, you're hurting me!" She ignored him and only tightened her grip._

_"Pick it up and throw it in the fire." The boy turned his head sharply to look at her. He couldn't believe what she was saying. "Do it," she insisted, shaking him. "Or do you want Mama and Papa to yell at you?" she added spitefully. When he didn't answer her, she shook him again. "Do you?" she repeated._

_"No!" he choked out._

_She gazed at him for a few more seconds before she released him, sending him stumbling backwards. When he had righted herself, she spoke. "Pick it up and throw it in the fire."_

_More tears flowed from the boy's eyes as he looked from the dead bird to his sister. "_Now_," she demanded. Slowly, the boy kneeled beside the bird. His hands hovered over it, unsure of how to pick it up. Then slowly, he cupped his hands around it and dragged it away from the floor. Blood smeared over the inside of his shirt cuff. He made a strangled sound and a shudder ripped through his body._

_"Go to the fire." Had the boy been consolable, he might have noticed the strange tone of voice his sister took as she told him what to do. But he didn't, and being six, he had no choice but to obey her. He stood and swayed over to the fire, eyes unable to leave the bird. "Now, throw it in the fire." Her voice sounded strangely excited now, but once again, the boy took no notice. Tears rolled down his face, staining his shirt. With a jerky motion, he threw the body in the fire._

_The girl looked as if nothing has changed. The small smile faded and she regained her cold expression. "_Horoshi malchik." Good boy._ She spoke to him as if he were a dog. To her, he basically was. "Now go downstairs, and tell no one of this."_

_He didn't have to be told twice. Abandoning the basket he had come here with, he raced to the trapdoor, not bothering to shut it before he left. The little girl stepped over to the door and closed it softly so that no one would hear it._

_A log burst, snapping loudly and collapsing into coal. It buried the bird in the fire's depths, burning it until nothing remained but the bones._

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><p><strong>So that was kind of creepy. Sorry for the disturbing-ness. But get over it. And yes, I was partially inspired by that weird bit in the movie Orphan, which is actually a pretty good movie despite the fact that it's horrendously long. Oh, and I don't speak Russian, I just used google translate, so if you happen to speak this beautiful language and I've misused it in any way, please tell me.<strong>

**Apologies for any formatting errors. If you catch anything, you can tell me about that too.**


	8. star charts and surprises

The night was miraculously clear for a winter night in the Scottish Highlands. The stars above glittered as coldly as the snow that dusted my hair. Despite the fact that it was below freezing, I wasn't cold in the least. Maybe it had something to do with the emerald fur coat that insulated me, or maybe it was just due to the fact that I had grown up in Russia. I didn't really know, but I did know that I enjoyed the cold almost as much as a cat enjoys warmth.

"Aren't you f-freezing?" Barty asked me. He had abandoned his star chart and was huddled into a ball, arms and legs crossed, shaking like a Chihuahua.

"This is like summer in Moscow," I smiled, trying to make a joke. Judging by the murderous glare Barty shot me, he didn't find it funny. I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Here, _malenkaya zmaya*,_ let's switch coats," I offered, tugging at the collar of his pathetically thin robes with my pinky.

Barty instantly looked horrified. "Oh, no, but then you'll be cold!" he contended, pushing my hand away rather reluctantly. "I'm f-fine, rea-really," he insisted, but despite himself, he stumbled over his words for shaking. I ignored his protests and undid the fastenings on his robe, jerking it off without much of a fight from him. I shrugged off my coat and shoved it at him.

"I'll look like a girl," Barty mumbled, glancing down at the fitted coat reproachfully.

"Too late," I laughed, a smirk on my face. "You already do."

He wrinkled his nose, fixing me with an indignant look. "Why does everybody say that?" he complained. "I'm not really _pretty_, am I?"

"You could win a pageant," I teased, then paused, having just thought of something. "You know, I think we just killed the definition of gender roles," I mused.

He glanced at me sharply. "What?"

"Isn't it usually the boy who gives the girl his jacket?" He hummed in acknowledgment. "Now," I said, redirecting my attention to the task at hand, "we should really start on these star charts."

Barty nodded, and for a while, we studied the skies, marking down the stars we could see and noting those we couldn't. As we did this, somehow the conversation escalated into where I had been yesterday, something I really didn't want to talk about. I reluctantly explained to Barty that Dumbledore had wanted to see me, and when he asked why, I lied to him, saying that there was a miscommunication about my schedule. He seemed to know I wasn't telling the truth, but thankfully he didn't press.

We were just about to start on the second star chart when we were interrupted by the sound of voices. Both of us jumped away from the bench and the star charts as if we were breaking the rules and were afraid to get caught. I glanced at Barty and put my finger over my lips. "Shhh." He shot me a sarcastic look, but I ignored him.

Slowly, I crept over to the courtyard, Barty close behind me. I stopped behind a fountain with a statue of a lion, ducking down behind it. The voices were loud enough not to be drowned out by the sound of the water.

"Yo, slow _do-o-wn, _home dawg!"

"Home _what?_ Are you _on_ something?"

I furrowed my brow, and Barty mimicked my expression. "What…?" I murmured softly, exchanging a look with the Ravenclaw. We both peeked over the rim of the fountain, and I heard Barty gasp. A boy and a girl were standing the middle of the courtyard, bundled in winter clothes. I recognized them both, and instantly knew why Barty seemed shocked.

Although I had only seen him once or twice, the boy, a lanky, chalky-skinned creature, was easily recognizable as Kyros Zenith, a boy two years above me. The girl was a little bit harder to identify, due to the fluffy purple scarf that was wrapped most of the way around her head; however, the camera around her neck gave her away: Cade Riddle, my cousin.

They appeared to be having some kind of argument, although over what, I had no idea. That was the thing with them, though- and why I was so surprised to see them standing out in the cold together. Cade and Zenith were famous school-wide for their mutual hatred of each other, the hatred that seemed to be based on nothing but the fact that they existed. Their fights were legendary and gave even James and Lily a run for their money.

Cade's lips were puckered like a fish and as she spoke, she made strange gestures with her hands and arms. "Don't be slammin' the _slang_, man!" She was speaking with an American accent, and was botching it up very badly.

Zenith, who was _actually_ from America, looked livid. "How's this for slang, _dickbreath_?"

"You would _know_, crack-AH!"

"Cade! You _aren't _black! Shut _the hell_ up!"

"We-well, you _ain't_ Jewish_!_"

"How the _hell_ am I _not_ JEWISH?" I don't think I had ever seen someone so angry over something so stupid. Zenith's face was pulled into a seemingly permanent grimace. He looked royally pissed, whereas Cade looked like she was having the time of her life. Knowing her, she probably was.

"You're Atheist! You told me so!" she proclaimed triumphantly, as if this settled the argument.

"You stalker! I told you that in first year!" he snapped. I didn't think that Cade was listening to him, though- she was too busy pushing herself up against him, making funny faces. To my surprise, Zenith didn't cower away in disgust or push her off.

Cade was now grinning cheerfully in contrast to his furious scowl. "You find that flattering," she teased him. In a blatant display of nerve, she raised a hand and tapped him on the lips. My eyebrows shot up. "Now stop trying to change the subject."

He glowered at her incredulously and swatted her hand away. "_I'm_ changing the subject?" he growled. "_I'm changing the subject?_ As I recall, we started off talking about _how you aren't black_, and then me being _Jewish_ comes into question? Once again, _I'm changing- _what are you doing?" Zenith's volume of voice changed dramatically as Cade drew nearer to his face, licking her lips. My mouth fell open. _Are they going to…_

Just before their lips met, Cade pushed Zenith into a bush, cackling madly. He flailed around, cursing loudly. Barty nudged me in the side, and we dropped down behind the fountain's edge, both completely shocked. Neither of us spoke for a moment as we processed what we had just seen. It was surprising enough to see them out alone in the middle of the night, let alone see them touching each other- let alone see them nearly kissing!

I was the first to speak. "We should probably leave," I stated quickly.

Barty released a lungful of air. "Yeah, yeah, have to agree with you on that one," he grinned, looking relieved. He stood and was halfway over to the bench where our star charts were when he realized that I wasn't with him. He spun around, looking confused when he saw me still pressed up against the fountain. "Are you coming, or what?" he inquired, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, come on, Kyros, as if _you_ would ever- _what was that_?"

Eyes wide, I waved urgently at him to get down, but it was too late.

"What was what? Now you're just trying to change the subject again, dam-"

"No, shhh! _Shhhh_! Did you hear that?" There was a pause as they listened. Barty stood stiller than a deer caught in the headlights. "Hey! Who're you?"

Barty's eyes went wide and he froze as he realized that Cade was staring straight at him. A tense silence fell over the area as the two older students glared at him. I turned my eyes skyward, sighing heavily. We were going to be out here for far longer than we had predicted.

I heard a thump as suddenly, Cade spun around on her heels and punched Zenith in the arm. "This is _entirely your fault!_"

"Ow, fuck, woman! How is this _my_ fault?"

"_You _were the one who started it!"

"Uh-uh! No way! It was _you-"_

"It was _you_ who started bitching and moaning about the bloody _plan_-"

"I wasn't _bitching; _I was merely pointing out that-"

"-that my perfect, flawless, infallible _masterpiece_ is, in _your words,_ CRAP?_" _

"But it _is_! You've completely forgotten to think about things like _this _happening!" Zenith's voice broke as he stabbed his wand in Barty's direction. Barty squeaked. "_Not-to-freaking-mention_ that _Pringle-nearly-caught-us_!" Each word was enunciated by a wand-stab at Barty, who now looked quite pale.

After he looked down at my pleadingly, I decided that I should probably do something. Blowing my hair out of my eyes forcefully, I rose and sauntered over to Barty, situating myself partially in front of him. Cade and Zenith were still arguing, and in the past seven seconds had somehow gotten from some plan to the subject of Zenith's epilepsy ("I do not have epilepsy! It's called _Tourette's!_"). Rolling my eyes, I cleared my throat loudly. "Ahem."

Nothing happened- they only continued fighting. Either they couldn't hear me, or they were intentionally ignoring me. This thought made me frown, and I coughed louder. "_Ahem!" _

Much to my displeasure, they only kept arguing. "_Daft!" _

"_PMS-y!" _

"_Drag queen!"_

"_Dyke!"_

My arms dropped to my sides, hands curled into fists. "_Hello, you bloody idiots!" _I practically shouted.

That got their attention. Cade abruptly stopped speaking, and Zenith whipped around, waving his wand around like a moron. Neither of them focused on me for a minute, their eyes darting around wildly in the dim light; but when Cade saw me, she relaxed.

I smiled wryly at her. "Hi-i-i-i," I said in a lilting voice, waving a sarcastic little wave at them.

Zenith, who still hadn't seen me, was pointing his wand in every direction. Cade threw her arms up in the air dramatically, huffing, before she snatched his wand away from him. "Give me that, piss brain, before you hurt yourself!" she growled. "It's only my cousin!" she huffed, glaring dangerously at him. He sighed heavily and folded his arms across his chest, obviously sulking.

Cade stuffed his wand into her bag, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like 'moron' under her breath. "What are you two doing out here anyway?" she demanded, turning her attention back on us. I didn't miss how she avoided eye contact with me.

"We've not finished our star charts," I informed her, my tone masked. Barty shuffled nervously behind me.

Cade quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?" She sounded disbelieving. "Is that so?"

Zenith chose this moment to speak up. "Yeah. Star charts are the reason _he's_ wearing _your_ coat, and _you're _wearing _his_." He looked Barty up and down, surveying his clothing. "Unless you both just have really weird taste," he added distastefully.

I heard Barty give a huff behind me. I knew he would complain to me later about the coat, but at the moment, I wasn't really paying much attention to him. My eyes were locked on Cade. "That's all we were doing. Making star charts," I stated coolly, offering no further explanation about the coats.

Cade studied us for a second before her lips twisted into a smirk. "Whatever you say, _Syerpentine_," she mocked, pronouncing my last name in Russian. I knew she was goading me, but I refused to take the bait.

Barty seemed to notice that there was something going on. He glanced thoughtfully between Cade and I. "We've finished the charts, and it's wicked cold out here, so we should probably get going," he announced loudly, putting his hand on my shoulder.

Zenith apparently caught on to the fact that something was wrong, too, because he also stepped forward and put his hand on Cade's shoulder. "Yeah, you should," he agreed.

The tension hung thickly in the air. Cade eyed me bitterly, but I was expressionless. Barty tugged on my shoulder, drawing me out of my state. I blinked and Cade looked away, crossing her arms. "Yeah, let's go," I mumbled, turning on my heel and stalking off into the snow.

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><p><strong>Malenkaya zmaya means little snake in Russian. I don't actually speak Russian and just used google translate, so I apologize if that's not actually how you say it... anyway, I couldn't resist having Cade and Kyros in here. I absolutely love them. They're my characters, not out of HP, if you didn't already know that. xD <strong>


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